


Whumptober 2019 - Star Wars

by KaelinaLovesLomaris



Series: Star Wars Ficlets [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Broken Bones, Claustrophobia, Gen, Hoth AU, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Slavery, Solitary Confinement, Trapped on ice, Vader goes on a murder spree, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, dad!Vader, mention of amputation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-11-22 13:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20875169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelinaLovesLomaris/pseuds/KaelinaLovesLomaris
Summary: A collection of my Whumptober 2019 prompts for Star Wars.My usual focus, on Luke and Dad Vader.





	1. Day 2. Explosion

**Author's Note:**

> I’m doing about half the prompts for Star Wars, the other half for Final Fantasy XV. This work is just for the Star Wars fics.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke gets shot down on a mission and captured by Vader. Not as whumpy as it should be for Whumptober.

Luke had barely managed to stumble out of the wreckage of the small cargo ship he had borrowed for his current mission before it exploded. The force of the blast knocked him off his feet. Gravel bit into his hands, and he barely had time to register the pain before his head smacked into the ground and all he knew was darkness.

Consciousness returned slowly and with it came the awareness of pain. Sharp in his hands, an ache in his head, a throb in his knees. And his body was cold, so cold.

No, the cold was in the back of his mind, not his body. In fact, his body was actually pleasantly warm. Luke forced his eyes to open against the pain in his head and immediately wished he hadn’t.

“You cannot fool me, Skywalker. I know you are awake.”

Luke blamed the ringing in his ears for not having noticed the rhythmic breathing sooner.

This could not be happening. He had to be hallucinating. He must have hit his head too hard when the ship blew up… The ship! Oh, the Alliance was going to be mad. Of _ course _ he would get shot down _ after _ he had picked up the cargo. He doubted much of it was left after the explosion. Not that he would be able to get to it, much less get any of it back to the Alliance, not if he had been captured by Darth Vader.

There was no avoiding it. He could feel the cold darkness of the Sith’s presence in the Force. Despite his less than stellar understanding of the Force, Vader was impossible to miss.

Reluctantly, Luke opened his eyes again. It was easier the second time, despite knowing this time what he was going to see.

Vader was hovering over him like a vulture, arms crossed in front of his chest in what Luke almost interpreted as disapproval, or would have had it been anyone else. Despite knowing it was a bad idea, Luke risked looking away from the immediate threat to take stock of the rest of his surroundings. If he had a chance to make a break for it, he wanted to have an idea of where to go.

He was in an unfamiliar room, easily identifiable as Imperial due to the utilitarian gray of the walls and the lack of any sort of decor. He was definitely on a ship, the construction of the walls more akin to bulkheads than the walls of a planetside structure. There were no viewports, at least none visible from Luke’s current vantage point, but the room didn’t appear to be a cell. Vader was between him and the door, but Luke imagined it was locked anyways.

Vader still gave no signs of moving, so Luke struggled to sit up and was surprised to find that not only was he unbound, he was lying on a bed with a blanket draped over him. It did nothing to help convince Luke that the whole situation wasn’t some sort of weird dream caused by a concussion.

“You are not dreaming.”

“Well now I definitely know I am, because I certainly didn’t say that out loud.” Besides, there was no reason for Vader to have brought him anywhere other than a cell, and certainly no reason to tuck him into bed. It was all contributing to the strange lack of fear Luke was feeling. Rationally, he knew he should be freaking out. He knew what happened to Rebels who were captured by Darth Vader, and he had a bounty on his head that rivaled those of the leaders of the Alliance. But for some reason he felt surprisingly calm.

Vader shifted on his feet. Luke frowned. That was a nervous gesture that looked very wrong on the second in command of the Empire.

“Did Obi-Wan teach you nothing of shielding? You are broadcasting your every thought openly.”

Fear slithered down Luke’s spine. There was no way that meant what he thought it did, although there were enough rumors of Vader’s ability to read minds that he supposed they must have some basis in truth.

“He didn’t have time,” Luke finally managed to respond. He took a deep breath, flexing his hands and wincing as the action pulled on his raw skin. He had scraped them pretty badly when he fell. “What do you want with me?”

Vader shifted again. Luke took advantage of his hesitation to catalogue his other injuries. A fading headache. Bruised knees. Nothing that would prevent him from running away the first chance he got. He may be feeling calmer than he should, but that didn’t mean things couldn’t change in an instant. Maybe this whole thing was just a strange way of attempting to lull him into a false sense of security, relax his guard.

“You are very powerful,” Vader finally said. “But your training is severely lacking.”

Luke stopped picking the gravel from his hands to stare up at Vader in disbelief.

“No way. You’re not _ training _ me.”

“You do not have a choice, Skywalker.”

Anger unexpectedly rose up in Luke. “Why me?” he demanded. “Out of all the Force sensitives you’ve _ slaughtered _ since the rise of the Empire, including my father, why choose _ me_? I’m nothing special.”

“On the contrary, you are the most important being in this Galaxy, Luke.”

Luke started at the use of his given name, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him from the weight of the _ sincerity _ he could hear in Vader’s voice, and it just confused him more.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” Vader assured him.

But Luke wasn’t sure he wanted to.


	2. Day 3: Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally a Hoth AU!

It was impossible to tell if he was headed in the right direction. Any marks the wampa might have left in the snow when it brought him back to its cave were long gone in the blizzard, and Luke hadn’t exactly been paying attention when he had initially fled the cave. His only thought had been to put distance between himself and it, and only now, an indeterminable amount of time later, was he regretting it.

He was either too far away or the storm was causing too much interference for his comlink to reach Han or Leia. Maybe both. Or maybe it had been damaged when the wampa had attacked him, though it didn’t show any signs of it. Whatever the reason, he had been unable to make contact, and he was very, very lost. And cold. His limbs were beginning to go numb, and he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to keep slogging his way through the snow. Each step drained more and more energy from his legs, and even though he knew it would be easier if he lifted his feet completely out of the snow each time rather than shuffling forward and building up a pile of snow in front of his legs, he didn’t have the strength anymore.

Luke stumbled and lost his footing, tumbling down the incline he had just laboriously made his way up. His mind insisted that he needed to get back up, that he couldn’t just stay there and rest, but he was so tired and it didn’t seem worth the effort to get back up. Where was he going to go anyways? He wouldn’t be able to make it back to the base like this.

He curled up, trying to conserve as much heat as he could. It wouldn’t do much good, he knew that, but he refused to give up entirely. Something inside him insisted that this wasn’t going to be his end.

~*~

Vader had known that Luke was on Hoth as soon as Admiral Piett had shown him the images from the probe droid, but once he had entered the system, he had expected his sense of Luke’s whereabouts to lead him to the base. He had not anticipated finding his son lying semi conscious at the bottom of an incline, miles away from any other sentient life, half covered in snow.

Vader knelt at his side, brushing the snow off him as gently as he could, assessing him with the Force for any sign of injury. The bloody gashes on his face were concerning but not life threatening. The frostbite on his exposed skin, however, was of more immediate worry. Clearly Luke had been outside for too long.

Vader unclasped his cape and draped it over Luke before hefting the boy into his arms. He was far too light, his bulky cold weather clothes disguising just how slight his body really was. Was the Rebellion not feeding him?

Vader clutched him as tightly as he dared as he worked his way up the incline. Luke hadn’t fallen that long ago; the marks in the snow from his tumble were still clearly visible even with the rapid snow accumulation. But any amount of time lying alone in the snow was too long. He was so still. If Vader hadn’t been able to feel his life burning in the Force, he would have feared that he’d been too late.

“Luke, you need to wake up.”

Luke didn’t stir, and Vader quickened his pace as he reached the top of the incline. The sooner he got Luke somewhere warm and into bacta, the better. He hoped it would be soon enough to prevent any lasting damage. Thankfully his shuttle was not far, and his pilot had kept the engine running while he was out retrieving Luke.

He held his son close throughout the short ride up to the _ Executor_. The heat in the shuttle melted the snow still clinging to Luke’s face and clothes, and Luke was shivering by the time they landed in the hangar. He hadn’t woken, but he was murmuring, calling out for his smuggler friend and someone named Ben. He was clearly delirious, but at least he was no longer fully unconscious.

But Vader did not relax until Luke was sedated and submerged in bacta, with the assurances of the medics that he would be just fine in a few days.


	3. Day 6. Dragged Away (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedge and Luke are captured with the rest of their team during a mission. Pre-ESB.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part one of two. Tomorrow’s prompt will be a direct follow up.

Their mission hadn’t exactly gone well. The Imperials had arrived so quickly that Wedge was convinced the whole thing had been a setup. No one had managed to get away or even send a warning message to Command that the mission had been compromised. No one would come looking for them until it was too late.

Wedge looked over at Luke. They had been captured as a group, and Luke had stuck to the center, trying to keep his head down. The bounty on his head was easily twice that of the rest of the team combined. So far it seemed he hadn’t been noticed and recognized, but the Imps hadn’t really paid too much attention to them yet aside from rounding them up and herding them into a holding area in the base they had infiltrated. They had been cursorily searched for weapons, but Luke had left his lightsaber behind for this mission, as it would have detracted from his disguise as an Imperial pilot. But with a bounty the size of Luke’s, it wouldn’t be long before someone recognized his face.

Luke must have felt Wedge’s eyes. He glanced up and gave him a small smile. It did nothing to alleviate the tension Wedge was feeling. But nothing would unless they managed to escape.

The sound of the door opening drew Wedge’s attention. The stormtroopers on either side of the door parted to let a pair of hard-faced officers into the room followed by a squad of additional stormtroopers. The few Rebels who had sat down scrambled to their feet, and Wedge glanced at Luke again to see he had shifted so he was better blocked by the people around him. Wedge knew, and he knew Luke knew as well, that it was futile. It was only a matter of time before they started identifying them, but Wedge didn’t blame him for trying to delay it as much as possible. Wedge would too, in his situation. A bounty that large signified nothing good for Luke. Even though the notice didn’t state it directly, it was obvious the Empire had realized that he was the one who had destroyed the Death Star. Luke would be tortured and executed publicly, probably by Darth Vader himself, for that.

Oh, they would all be tortured and executed. That was standard Imperial hospitality for Rebels, but Luke would undoubtedly have it worse.

One of the Imperials barked an order to “cooperate or else” before they started moving through the crowd, doing a more thorough check for weapons and evidence and taking blood samples in an effort to identify them. Rebels they were done with were cuffed and forced to their knees along the edge of the room. A few Rebels tried to resist and were swiftly beaten into submission. Wedge looked away from Luke to avoid drawing extra attention to him.

Wedge’s stomach clenched as he waited for one of the officers to reach him. It had been easier to push down the fear while they were being left alone, but now everything would begin.

He was near the middle of the group, but the Imperials were efficient and it didn’t take them long to reach him. Wedge didn’t fight back, but he stared defiantly at the officer when he grabbed his chin and yanked his head up. The officer laughed.

“Wedge Antilles! And I was beginning to think we hadn’t caught anyone of importance.”

Wedge’s blood ran cold. He knew he was a known Rebel, but he hadn’t thought he was  _ that _ well-known. At least it saved him from being stuck with a needle. He was patted down roughly, and the small vibroblade he’d hidden in his boot was removed.

He was cuffed and manhandled to his knees like everyone else, though he thought he might have been shoved down a little harder than most of the others. His knee throbbed in protest. He wasn’t sure what his apparent infamy would do for his situation, but considering he’d been treated the same as everyone else so far, he didn’t think it would matter. He might be hit harder for more important intel, but he was still just a flight Lieutenant, and he wouldn’t give them anything anyways. Functionally nothing would change.

He tried not to watch Luke, who was almost at the back of the group, but he couldn’t help stealing glances. He was still far more concerned about what capture would mean for his friend than himself.

Luke stiffened as they got close to him, and Wedge gave up pretending like he wasn’t watching him. It wouldn’t matter in a few seconds anyways.

Luke didn’t voluntarily raise his head when the officer approached him, but he didn’t fight when they tilted his chin up. His eyes were wide and even with the distance between them, Wedge could see how fast he was breathing. It wasn’t an unusual reaction, in fact Luke was a lot calmer than some of the other Rebels were, but it was rare for Luke to show his fear.

The officer dropped his hand from Luke’s face as though he’d been burned and quickly drew his blaster, leveling it at Luke. Luke raised his hands in surrender even as he skittered back a step. Wedge bit down on his tongue so hard he tasted blood, and he had to fight not to jump up and rush between Luke and the officer.

The officer shouted for his companion, and several of the stormtroopers guarding Wedge and the other processed Rebels broke off to surround Luke, all with blasters raised.

The officer that had recognized Wedge reached Luke and stepped into the circle of stormtroopers.

“Turn around, Skywalker,” he demanded. Luke obeyed, putting his hands behind his back as he did. The Imperial was still overly rough with him despite Luke’s cooperation, yanking at his arms and jerking him back around after he was cuffed.

Luke winced as he was pulled forward by the officer, stumbling with the unexpected motion. Wedge instinctively wanted to steady him, impossible as it was in their positions and with him halfway across the room.

“Two of you, with me,” the officer snapped at the stormtroopers. “The rest of you, finish processing these scum.” He dragged Luke towards the door, two of the stormtroopers falling in step behind them.

Wedge surged to his feet as they passed him, consequences be blasted. A stormtrooper grabbed him before he could take a step forward, forcing him back to his knees. The officer paused, looking at him in amusement.

“You’re no longer the most important prisoner, Antilles, not by a long shot. Don’t fret, you’ll still be treated with proper Imperial hospitality. I should have known when I saw you that Skywalker wouldn’t be too far away.” He shoved Luke forward, yanking his head up with a hand in his hair, and Luke gasped. Wedge ground his teeth. “He’ll make a rather pretty prize for Lord Vader. He’ll take his time with this one.”

Wedge shouted after Luke as he was dragged out of the room, struggling against the hands holding him down. There wasn’t anything he could do, he knew that, but it still felt wrong not to try, so he fought until the blue crackle of a stun bolt dropped him into unconsciousness.


	4. Day 7. Isolation (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of “Dragged Away.” Luke held in isolation while waiting for Vader to come get him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this one gets a little dark. It’s not great if you have claustrophobia.  
Also, I lied. There will be two more prompts later this month continuing this story.

Luke paced the cell. He wasn’t sure how long it’d been since the Imperial officer had dragged him away from Wedge and the rest of the team. He had been stripped out of his stolen TIE pilot uniform, left in nothing but the undershirt and a pair of gray pants, re-cuffed, and locked up in what appeared to be a very high security holding cell. It was little more than a five by five foot durasteel cube with enough cameras mounted on the walls to cover any potential blind spots. There wasn’t even a ledge to sit on like Leia’s cell on the Death Star had.

There was also no way to open the door from the inside. In fact, the edges of the door were so smooth that Luke almost doubted that there _ was _ a door, despite having been shoved through it an indeterminable amount of time earlier. Maybe he had been sealed away in this box forever and would just be left to die.

Except that he knew he was being given to Vader. The Imps had made that _ inescapably _ clear. Luke’s heart constricted in his chest at the thought. He was going to die a slow and painful death. He had known this would happen if he ever got himself captured, but that foreknowledge didn’t make it any easier to bear now that he was staring it in the face.

And Wedge. Oh, Wedge. Dear, loyal Wedge had probably made things so much worse for himself with his futile attempts to protect him.

_ “If there’s anything left of him by the time Lord Vader is done with _ ** _you_**_, maybe we’ll give Antilles to him too. After all, rumors say he flew against the Death Star with you. I’m sure Lord Vader will enjoy hurting him almost as much as he will you.” _

Luke couldn’t let that happen. Whatever happened to him, he couldn’t let Wedge be hurt too. He was in no position to bargain, he knew that, but he had to try.

_ But you might end up making it even worse if you show how much you care about him. _

There wasn’t much for Luke to do aside from pace and think in circles. He’d already worried his wrists raw in the binders. He refused to sleep, not knowing when Vader would come for him. There was no way he could allow himself to show that kind of vulnerability to the man who had killed his father.

Hours passed, or at least Luke thought it had been hours. Maybe it’d only been a few minutes. There was no way for him to tell. He tried counting, but he couldn’t keep his mind off increasingly morbid thoughts of what awaited him after Vader came for him.

~*~

The silence in the cell was ringing in his ears. He almost thought about screaming just to break the silence, but he didn’t want to give the Imps the satisfaction. He wasn’t certain if they were doing anything to him intentionally, or if they’d just put him in the most secure cell they had so “Vader’s prize” couldn’t slip away before the Sith came to collect.

~*~

The walls were closing in on him. He was sure of it, though he couldn’t stretch his arms out to check the distance between them. He’d never been claustrophobic before, not even after nearly being crushed in the trash compactor, though he was certain he would be after this. If they ever let him out. Maybe Vader didn’t care about killing him himself, maybe he’d seen how much this was messing Luke up and just decided to leave him.

~*~

The lights never changed, never dimmed. He couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. He curled up in a corner and hid his face behind his knees, wanting nothing more than to be able to cover his face with his hands.

~*~

He couldn’t tell where the door was. Oh Force, he couldn’t remember which direction he’d been facing when they threw him in here.

~*~

He didn’t know how long he’d been curled up in the corner, shaking, before the temperature in the cell plummeted. He whimpered, curling up tighter, unable to wrap his arms around himself. If they were going to leave him here to die, why couldn’t they just _ leave him alone_?

Luke sobbed, he couldn’t tell with relief or terror, when a section of the wall to his right slid up to reveal Vader standing in the doorway.

“Luke!”

It only took two steps for Vader to reach him, and then Luke thought he must be hallucinating when he kneeled in front of him. He couldn't move, frozen in indecision as Vader reached for him, unsure if he wanted to flinch away or lean into the contact. Vader touched his face gently, tilting Luke’s head up to meet his gaze. Luke gasped at the feel of leather on his cheek. Surely he couldn’t be hallucinating that clearly.

The binders around his wrists unlocked suddenly, and Luke startled, wincing as he stretched his stiff arms. This wasn’t how he’d been expecting this to go. But he didn’t care if this was all a ruse to lull him into some sense of security, he just wanted _ out _ of this cell, even if it meant walking willingly into whatever horrors Vader had planned. Whatever pain he could inflict couldn’t be worse than this.

Vader brushed his hand against his cheek again, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Without meaning to, Luke leaned his head into the touch. Vader stilled.

“Luke,” Vader said. “Do you know who I am?”

Luke nodded hesitantly. He could still be hallucinating. Didn’t Leia mention something about the Empire using hallucinogenic drugs?

“Vader,” he rasped. Luke licked his dry lips. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he’d become.

Vader nodded. “Will you come with me?” He held out a hand, and Luke eyed it warily. There was no way this was real, so there could be no harm in taking it. And even if it _ was _ real, what choice did he have? He was at Vader’s mercy regardless.

Luke reached out and took Vader’s hand. It felt solid and real wrapped around his, and he clung to it like a lifeline. Luke stumbled into Vader when he pulled him to his feet, his head spinning at the sudden change in position. Vader caught him, steadied him with an arm around his waist. His grip was firm but gentle, and Luke shook his head slightly in confusion.

“Why’re you… doing this?” It hurt to speak, his throat felt like it was full of sand, but none of this made sense.

“Hush, child. I will explain once you are safe.”

Safe? That wasn’t something Vader should be concerned about, not for him.

“I don’t… understand.”

Vader took a step, coaxing Luke forward with him, but Luke’s knees buckled. Before he could hit the floor, Vader swept his other arm beneath his knees, swinging Luke up into his arms and cradling him against his chest.

“Rest now, Luke.” Held against Vader’s chest, the words were a rumble that went right through him, dragging his eyelids down without his permission.

Luke resisted sleep for the space of a few heartbeats, long enough for Vader to step out of the cell and into the hallway. He turned his head away from the lights, burying his face in Vader’s shoulder, and slept.


	5. Day 9. Shackled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is captured by Boba Fett and en route to be delivered to Vader. Vader muses on his slavery to Palpatine while he waits for Luke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very unhappy with this, but I wrote it quickly with no inspiration, and the day is almost over, so have it anyways.

Luke woke to a headache and sore wrists. It didn’t take him long to realize the cause of the latter. He had been shackled to the wall of what appeared to be a somewhat spacious storage compartment by his wrists and ankles, and he’d been letting his wrists bear his weight for however long he’d been unconscious.

The former was harder to pin down. His memories of how he’d gotten himself into this predicament were a little fuzzy. He remembered leaving for a mission, remembered it going well until suddenly it hadn’t. What exactly happened when it all went sideways wasn’t clear.

Luke was distracted from trying to remember by the door to the room opening. He snapped his head up, the chains holding him to the wall rattling as he stood up as straight as he could.

His heart froze at the sight of the familiar armour. There was really only one thing _ Boba Fett _ could want from him, and Luke was not looking forward to it.

Fett stopped a few steps away from Luke, arms crossed over his chest.

“You got the best of me last time we met, little Jedi. But I actually have to thank you for that. Your bounty is much higher now. It very well might be the largest bounty I have ever cashed in.”

Fett tilted his head, running an appraising gaze over Luke’s body. “Not by size, of course.”

Luke bristled. Of all the things he had expected from being captured by a bounty hunter, having his _ height _ insulted was not one of them.

“I’d be curious to know why Vader thinks you are worth so much.”

“Me too,” Luke muttered. He didn’t think it was wise to admit that it was probably because he’d destroyed the Death Star. The Alliance wasn’t certain that the Empire had connected that to him. His bounty didn’t say anything about it, unless it was just grouped in with everything else that fell under “destruction of Imperial property,” but Luke was pretty sure it would scream “destruction of the Death Star” separately if they knew. So he kept his mouth shut.

“So you don’t even know? How much of a surprise was the announcement of that bounty for you then, I wonder. I’m amazed you have managed to evade capture for so long with it hanging over your head.”

“I didn’t think you were the gloating type,” Luke snapped.

“I’m not, usually. But your situation is unusual.” Fett took a step closer, and Luke shuffled back until his back hit the wall. “You escaped me once, against all odds. You have one of the highest bounties I have ever seen, and no one seems to know why. Vader would never tell me and I would never ask. And I imagine once I deliver you to him, you will no longer be in any position to tell anyone either.”

Luke shuddered, the clinking of the chains betraying him. He could _ feel _ Fett’s smirk at his reaction.

Fett turned to go, pausing at the door. “We are about two hours out. I suggest you prepare yourself, whatever that looks like for you.” Then the door slammed behind him, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts.

~*~

His son was coming. His son was coming, and Vader had no idea what he was going to do with him when he arrived. Thankfully he’d been able to acquire him through a non-Imperial channel, though Vader doubted Luke’s capture would go unnoticed by the Emperor for too long. He would never be done rooting out his master’s spies from the ranks of the 501st, no matter how quickly and efficiently he worked. Palpatine would always be one step ahead of him.

Except when it came to Luke’s identity. That was one thing Vader was certain he had discovered before the Emperor had, or else it was likely Luke would have been snatched away and killed before Vader could ever learn of him.

It would be difficult to secret Luke away, hide him safely on some remote planet without the Emperor discovering him. And leaving Luke alone and unguarded was not something Vader was willing to do. Hiding Luke in the ranks of the 501st or the _ Executor’_s pilots wouldn’t work unless Luke was willing to join him, and even then it was unlikely the Emperor wouldn’t notice him. The best thing to do would be to bring him to his master, something Vader was sure would be demanded of him anyways once the Emperor knew he had him. It would be better to bring him voluntarily and negotiate to keep Luke by his side.

Everything in Vader rebelled at the thought. He knew he would not be allowed to keep him. He knew it would only be a matter of time before he was deemed an unworthy teacher or accused of growing too fond of Luke to properly train him as a Sith. He would be forced to give him up, forced to hand over his son to a man who would twist him into something he wasn’t. And Vader would do it, because he was shackled to his master, to his master’s commands, and he no longer had the strength to slip the leash. 

He still had not come up with a solution by the time Fett hailed him for docking access.

  



	6. Day 10. Unconscious (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader’s POV for “Isolation,” and his dadly musings after Luke falls asleep in his arms.

Vader could feel that his son was definitely on planet the moment he entered the system. Finally, he would get him. This would not be like all the other false alarms, all the times someone _ claimed _ to have captured Luke, only for him to show up and they were empty handed, or worse, had some other blond boy he needed to dispose of.

But this time, Vader could feel Luke, his supernova presence in the Force bright and uncontrolled. Vader basked in the raw power of it, almost regretting that it must be tamed, but it was not safe for Luke to broadcast himself so openly, especially if he was anywhere near the Emperor. Vader could not allow his master to know who Luke was, or to know that he had him.

The closer Vader got to Luke, the more he became aware of the raw _ terror _ his son was feeling. By the time he entered the Imperial facility he was being held in, Vader’s knees, despite being prosthetic and not prone to human weakness, were almost threatening to buckle under the pressure. Vader’s concern rose. He had never known Luke to feel so much fear, not even when facing him down on Cymoon-1 or deliberately crashing his X-wing to take him out above Vrogas Vas. What could possibly be the cause of his fear _ now_?

Vader did not run, he never ran, but he quickened his pace. He needed to be at his son’s side, needed to fight off whatever was frightening him, because he doubted it was simply the knowledge that Vader was coming for him.

He wasted no time on pleasantries with the commander of the base.

“Where is he?” he demanded.

The man looked a little perturbed at Vader’s bruskness, but Vader had never cared less.

“We have him in our highest security cell, my Lord. We captured him as part of a group of Rebels infiltrating this base…”

Vader waved the explanation away. It was all the same things that had been in the report sent to him. “Where is he?” he asked again.

“Ah, right this way, my Lord.” The man gestured toward one of the hallways, but Vader stopped him before he could take a step.

“Which cell? I will go alone.”

Now the man’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pinching together in anger, but he complied. He turned away to program a code cylinder for Vader, as though he needed that to open the cell door, and Vader caught sight of the security camera footage from Luke’s cell.

His fury flared. Luke was curled up in the corner of what was indeed a high security _ isolation _ cell. Cameras covered him from every conceivable angle, affording him no privacy as he shook, his face pressed to his knees. His hands were still bound behind his back.

He no longer had the patience to wait for the man to finish preparing a useless code cylinder. Ignoring the man’s protests from behind him, he noted the cell number on the feed and stalked off down the previously indicated corridor. He would grill the man on Luke’s treatment _ after _ he removed his son from that _ box_.

Really he hadn’t even needed the cell number. It was obvious as he approached which one his son was in. The Force screamed it, Luke’s presence crying out for rescue.

It took little more than a wave of his hand for the door to open. Despite Vader’s frustrations at Luke’s lack of training, it had worked in his favor this time. A cell like this, with no Force suppression, would be easily escaped by someone with Luke’s power.

Luke let out a strangled sob that was almost masked by the sound of the door. Vader was at his side in an instant. He knelt in front of him and carefully reached for him. Luke gasped at his touch but didn’t pull away.

Luke’s eyes were barely focused on him, and Vader wasn’t sure if he was even seeing him at all.

Vader unlocked the binders around Luke’s wrists with another negligent brush of the Force. He gave Luke a moment to stretch out his undoubtedly stiff arms before reaching for him again, sweeping the hair away from his eyes. His son looked haggard, and Vader doubted he had slept since his capture, especially not with the lights in the cell. He felt the stirring of anger again at the people who had imprisoned his son like this, but shoved it down for Luke’s sake. He needed to summon every bit of gentleness he was capable of in this moment.

Vader’s heart nearly stopped when Luke tilted his head into Vader’s hand. There was no way Luke was aware of who was rescuing him if _ that _ was his reaction.

“Luke,” he asked carefully. “Do you know who I am?”

He braced himself for rejection, for Luke to name his smuggler friend or another Rebel, but Luke nodded and croaked out Vader’s name. The following surge of pride was unfamiliar. But now for the final test.

“Will you come with me?” He held out his hand, tense as Luke hesitated, but he relaxed when Luke set his own trembling hand in Vader’s. Vader wasn’t sure if it was trembling in fear or exhaustion or another emotion entirely, but as long as Luke was willing to accept his help, it didn’t matter.

He pulled Luke to his feet, catching him when he stumbled and reassuring him of his benevolent intentions. When Luke’s legs gave out, Vader swept him up into his arms.

It took the barest brush of the Force against Luke’s mind to drop him into sleep.

It felt right, carrying his sleeping son, even if the circumstances were very wrong. Having Luke cradled in his arms, his face hidden in Vader’s shoulder, was the happiest he’d been in longer than he could remember. He was almost reluctant to reach the end of the hallway and face the men who had captured him, knowing the uncharacteristic contentment he was feeling would be eclipsed by the more familiar rage.

The shock on the faces of the officers was gratifying, however.

He was loath to set Luke down, but he didn’t want his son in harm’s way, and he knew he was more likely to accidentally hurt him if he was in his arms for this.

He settled Luke gently in a chair, unable to stop himself from smoothing back his hair. All the witnesses would be dead soon anyways.

Vader turned back to the base commander, finally letting his tightly leashed rage rise to the surface.

“How long was he locked in there?” he demanded, his voice cold.

“Since… since just before we contacted you, my Lord.” The commander was sweating.

“You left him there for _ two days_?” he snarled.

“More like a day and a half…” The officer trailed off as Vader _ growled_. He gulped, tugging at the collar of his uniform.

“Have you given him water?” He already knew the answer; Luke’s discomfort had been apparent the moment he had tried to speak.

“N-no, my Lord, we couldn’t risk him escaping -”

“He is _ dehydrated_! I need him _ alive_!” Vader roared.

“I - I apologize, my Lord -” Vader cut him off with a raised hand, though he did not yet constrict his throat.

“It is too bad,” Vader spoke slowly, letting the threat in his voice be clearly heard, “that there was a prison break. Everyone escaped, and there were no Imperial survivors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really Vader? If Luke _had_ just been “the pilot who destroyed the Death Star” and not your son, you would have been _just fine_ with this treatment of him.


	7. Day 12. "Don't Move"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke decides to sneak into the Imperial Palace. This is a bad idea.

Luke had known that attempting to infiltrate the Imperial Palace had been a bad idea. But the allure of maybe finding something in the ruins of the Jedi Temple had been greater than his rather lacking instinct for self-preservation.

He had somehow managed to get past the planetary security to land on Imperial Center. That had been the first step, and it had gone without a hitch. It had been difficult to get into the lower levels of the Palace, but he had managed that too, so Luke had allowed himself to feel a little confident about his chances.

He should have known better.

He had worked his way far below where anyone regularly went, where the light was intermittent and the building showed signs of neglect. It had been easy to tell when he moved out of the Emperor’s new Palace and into the remnants of the Jedi Temple. The furnishings had changed from lavish flauntings of wealth to austere functionality. The air around him was stale and still, like no one had breathed it in centuries, even though Luke knew it must have been bustling with life just twenty years ago.

The lack of activity had lowered Luke’s guard, had allowed him to think that maybe he would be able to search for something of use without being interrupted.

Now Luke pressed himself up against the wall in one of the side corridors, praying that he wouldn’t be noticed as the blood-chilling sound of that respirator drew closer.

_ Don’t notice me, don’t notice me, please don’t notice me. _

Vader’s heavy footsteps grew louder, then slowed and stopped. Luke couldn’t see him, but he was pretty sure he was right next to the entrance to the hallway Luke was hiding in. Luke held his breath, wanting to close his eyes but knowing it wouldn’t help, and he’d rather be able to see the exact moment Vader noticed him. He would never have enough of a head start to escape, and surely Vader knew the passages of the old temple better than Luke did, but he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I can sense you, little one.”

Luke bit down hard on his lip to keep himself from gasping. Vader had to be messing with him, trying to get him to give himself away. Then again, Luke could feel a cold, heavy presence around him that hadn’t been there before Vader had showed up. He didn’t know enough about the Force to say if Vader was lying or not.

“This will be easier for both of us if you come out, Luke.”

He couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath at the sound of his given name in Vader’s baritone. He hadn’t realized that Vader knew who he was, much less knew his name at all.

More footsteps, and then what little light that had been filtering into Luke’s hallway was eclipsed by Vader’s silhouette.

Luke ran. He ignored Vader’s shout from behind him, he could barely hear it over the pounding of his heart and feet anyways, and focused on nothing but getting _ away_.

The hallway was long, unbroken by side corridors or doors, and Luke had no idea where he was going. For all he knew, he was going to end up in a dead end.

_ And isn’t that term appropriate? _ he thought, morbidly amused.

The hallway suddenly opened up around him, and Luke’s steps faltered as he found himself at the edge of a large chamber. Vader was right behind him, seconds away from reaching him, but something in him screamed not to go any farther.

_ Get a grip, Skywalker! _

Luke took a breath and glanced behind him. Vader was almost close enough to touch. That overrode his misgivings, and he turned to run again.

“Luke! Stop!”

Several steps into the room, Luke stopped again. He swore, not understanding why he was hesitant to continue, especially if _ Vader _ wanted him to stop. If Vader wanted something, surely that meant Luke should do the opposite?

He turned around to face Vader, who had also hesitated several steps away. That was odd, but Luke wasn’t going to question it. He started backing up slowly, ignoring the screaming in his mind that said he shouldn’t go any further. It had to be a trick of Vader’s, something to get him to stop trying to escape. Well it wasn’t going to work.

“Luke, do not move.”

It wasn’t the words that made Luke stop yet again, it was the _ tone_. Vader almost sounded… panicked, though Luke knew that made no sense.

“Why?” he demanded. If he couldn’t come up with a good reason, Luke really was going to ignore everything and bolt, no matter what he felt, no matter what Vader called after him.

“Walk back to me slowly.”

Luke snorted. “And why would I do that? I’m not walking willingly to my death.”

“No harm will come to you, Luke.”

“You know there’s no way I’d believe that.”

Vader still hadn’t come any closer. Luke edged back another step, testing if Vader would follow. There wasn’t enough distance between them for Luke to outrun him if Vader did decide to follow, but if he could gain a few feet…

“Luke, _ please_…” Vader reached for him, and Luke took a full step back.

There was a loud _ crack _ as Luke’s foot touched the floor, and the ground started to give way beneath him. His heart caught in his throat, preventing even a scream, but an intangible grip stopped him before he could fall. He was yanked back to safety and, once he caught his breath, he realized he was sitting on the floor near Vader’s feet.

He scrambled to his feet, and Vader reached for him again, but he didn’t try to run. Vader’s hand dropped back to his side.

“What was that?” he gasped. A large fissure ran through the floor where Luke had been standing. He couldn’t see how deep it went from where he was currently standing, but he had no desire to get closer for a better look.

“You triggered intruder protocols,” Vader said. “I came to collect you before you sprang any of the traps, but of course you ran directly into one.”

“Why not just let the traps catch me?”

Luke wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, the light in the temple was poor, after all, but he thought Vader stiffened at his question.

“Because the traps are of a lethal variety,” he spat.

“And you want me alive?”

“I want you alive.”

Luke shivered at the weight in those words. He was suddenly aware, again, of who exactly he was standing next to. The man may have saved his life, but he had murdered his father and hunted down Jedi and slaughtered thousands of Rebels. His reasons for wanting Luke alive were no doubt unpleasant.

Luke wanted to run, but knew he had no chance of avoiding whatever other traps might be set throughout the rest of the temple. He had no choice but to go with Vader. If he was lucky, he might be able to find an opening while on the way to wherever Vader would take him.

He took a shuddering breath and nodded. He stepped forward so he was within Vader’s reach, expecting to be cuffed. But when Vader reached for him, it was only to brush his hair away from his face. Luke froze, unsure how to react.

Vader dropped his hand. “I meant what I said, that no harm will come to you.”

Luke shook his head, still not believing him. But when Vader placed a gentle hand on the small of his back to guide him out of the temple, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.


	8. Day 15. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has scars from his encounter with the Emperor’s lightning.

Luke woke with the taste of his screams still in his mouth. It had been a month since he had faced the Emperor on the second Death Star. A month since he had redeemed his father. And still, every night, he dreamed that he had failed, that he had fallen, that he had killed his father. Or that his father had rejected him and turned his back on his agony, allowing the Emperor to kill him.

Luke groaned as he sat up, shoving the covers away from him. His body still hurt sometimes, and he knew he would never be fully rid of the pain the Emperor’s lightning had caused. The lingering soreness was nothing like the initial hot bursts of agony, thankfully, but it left him feeling achy, like when he came down with a minor virus.

He got up and walked to the refresher, intending to splash water on his face. His nightmares had left a sheen of sweat on him, and he could swear he could still smell his charred skin and clothing.

The water helped, but it wasn’t quite enough. He still felt sticky and gross, and warm water always helped when his scars acted up. Maybe he should take a shower?

Luke had just pulled his shirt off when he heard movement behind him. He turned to see his father hovering in the doorway.

The doctors were still trying to figure out the safest way to fully remove the suit. The thing was a torture device. It wasn’t shoddy workmanship. Every piece of it had been deliberate in its intent to cause discomfort or even outright pain, and the Emperor had gone above and beyond to make sure that it was as entwined as possible with Anakin’s body to make removal difficult or impossible.

Much of it had now been stripped away, and his prosthetic limbs had been replaced with the best quality credits could buy, but the more integrated parts of his life support remained. The death mask was gone, swapped for a lighter weight respirator that no longer obscured his entire face. Anakin often forgot that his expressions could now be seen by everyone around him, much to his chagrin and Luke’s delight.

The doctors were uncertain how much more could be done to heal his body, since the damage had gone untreated for so long, but Luke had found a team who were willing to try.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Luke said.

“I heard you scream,” his father admitted. His voice without the vocoder was soft. “But I did not want to intrude if you planned on going back to sleep.”

Luke shook his head. “I’ll be up for a bit.”

“Which nightmare was it this time?”

Luke bit his lip, not wanting to admit that it had been the one where Vader turned his back on him and left him to die. But he knew his hesitation would give it away just as loudly as his words would.

His father insisted that the nightmare was justified, that he would never fault Luke for fearing that outcome, but Luke was still ashamed of it. It felt like a betrayal or a lack of trust in his father.

Luke looked up at his father, meeting the eyes that were a mirror of his own above the translucent breath mask. Anakin shook his head.

He crossed the room to Luke, brushing a gloved hand against his face. Anakin had rejected synthskin prosthetics, opting to simply cover the bare metal with gloves and long sleeves. Luke tilted his head into the touch.

Anakin dropped his hand to Luke’s shoulder, running a finger along one of the pale scars that spider-webbed across Luke’s body, another gift from the Emperor’s lightning.

“I should have saved you sooner.” Anakin’s voice was heavy with remorse. Luke reached up to capture his father’s hand in his own.

“You saved me. That’s what matters.”


	9. Day 16. Pinned Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is pinned under a collapsed building with a broken leg. Vader comes to <s>capture</s> save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for very slight suicidal ideation, in regards to Luke preferring to be killed by Vader rather than bleeding out. Mention of potential amputation that doesn’t happen.

Luke was certain that this time, he really was going to die.

The first blasts that had shaken the facility had been enough of a warning for most people to evacuate, but Luke had stayed to help a few who had been cut off by debris. He had gotten them out and was just finishing checking through that end of the building for any more trapped survivors when another blast rocked the building, much too close.

Now he was trapped, pinned down by a collapsed section of the wall, and if the blood and pain were any indication, his leg was broken, badly.

Luke bit back a sob as another wave of agony coursed through his leg. There were black spots in his vision, and he didn’t know how much longer he could stay awake. And even if he managed, there was no help coming any time soon. Everyone had evacuated thanks to the Imperial bombardment. The only people likely to find him were stormtroopers, and they wouldn’t be much help.

Fighting to ignore his leg, Luke tried to reach for the Force. There was no way he was going to be able to shift all the debris he was pinned under. He had barely managed to scoot a fork across the table, but maybe it would be able to offer some insight. Or maybe he would be able to call his lightsaber to hand. Pinned as he was, he couldn’t reach it.

_ And what are you going to do with that, Skywalker? _ he berated himself. _ Cut off your own leg? _

Luke blanched at the thought, but knew it was not entirely unsound reasoning. It should cauterize the wound, so he wouldn’t bleed out, and if his leg was free, or rather, if his body was free from his leg, he thought he might be able to wiggle his way out from under the rest of the duracrete.

_ But I don’t think I could do it. _

Still, having access to his lightsaber wouldn’t be a bad thing. Luke closed his eyes, shoving away the pain, and attempted to open himself up.

It was simple to _ feel _ the Force. Now that he knew what he was looking for, it was easy to sense it around him, but actually _ connecting _ to it and having it respond to him was much harder. Usually he found it responded best when he wasn’t consciously trying. He didn’t have that option right now.

Even skimming the surface of the Force was calming, and Luke found himself relaxing. He realized the pain was dimming a little too, though he wasn’t certain if it was just his awareness of it fading, or if the Force was somehow managing to… what, heal it? Or maybe he was just close to passing out from blood loss and it was all a hallucination.

Pushing that unnerving thought aside, Luke concentrated on his lightsaber. He pictured it in his mind, remembered the shape and weight of it in his hands, focused on the uncomfortable press of it against his hip. He imagined the Force surrounding it, lifting it, bringing it to his hand…

The lightsaber leapt free from his belt, and Luke felt his heart leap. But it flew _ past _ him, and Luke opened his eyes to stare up at the absolute last sight he ever wanted to see.

“Your attempts to use the Force are disruptive enough to bring down this base _ without _ the use of bombs, young one.”

“Vader,” Luke breathed, any calm he had managed to glean from the Force lost as he finally registered the sound of the respirator.

Vader stared down at him, one hand on his hip, the other clutching Luke’s lightsaber. Vader’s helmet tilted up, presumably looking at the pile of debris on top of Luke, then back down to him again.

“I did not realize you were on this base or I would have ordered more care be taken with the air strike.”

Luke wasn’t sure what to make of that. He wasn’t sure he wanted to _ try _ to make something of that.

He was feeling oddly relieved that he had been found, even if it was by _ Vader_, because at least now he, probably, wouldn’t be left to bleed out or die of dehydration. Even if Vader deemed his current state too much effort or hassle to be worth it to try and save him, despite the loud “alive only” on his bounty, he didn’t think Vader would just _ leave _ him. The best he could hope for would be a quick death.

Vader’s vocoder produced a weird, staticky sound that Luke thought might be a sigh. He didn’t have time to ponder that before Vader clipped Luke’s lightsaber to his belt next to his own and lifted his head to regard the debris again. He raised a hand, palm up, fingers curling inward, and Luke felt the debris shift.

He gasped, snapping his head up to watch in awe as the wall that was pinning him floated up. He almost cried as the pressure lifted from his body, and he scrambled backwards as fast as he could without jostling his leg.

He bumped into Vader’s legs and stopped, freezing as everything caught up to him. He had been distracted by Vader’s casually powerful use of the Force, but now it hit him that there was no way for him to escape. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere with his leg as it was, and apparently Vader wanted him badly enough to deal with him in his current condition.

That couldn’t mean anything good.

As soon as Luke was clear, Vader dropped his arm, letting the wall fall back down at the same time. The cloud of dust it created made Luke cough.

He was still sprawled at Vader’s feet, but there really was nowhere he could go. Resignation dragged his limbs down as heavily as his injury.

“Stay still,” Vader ordered, even though Luke hadn’t moved. Vader pulled a small multitool out of a pouch on his belt and sliced open Luke’s pant leg, giving both of them a clear look at the damage.

The leg was definitely bent at an angle it wasn’t supposed to be, and there was a lot of blood, but he didn’t see any bone sticking _ out _ of his leg, so at least he could be grateful for that.

Vader crouched down next to him, placing a steadying, or restraining, Luke wasn’t really sure, hand on his shoulder. He contemplated Luke’s leg for another moment, running his other hand over it without touching. Luke tensed anyways, hissing as it made the pain flare.

“Relax,” Vader said. “I will not harm you.”

_ Yet, _ Luke thought, grimacing. He wasn’t thrilled about being captured while heavily injured. He wasn’t thrilled about being captured regardless, but this made it so much worse.

Vader finished examining Luke’s leg and turned back to him. “I cannot do anything for this here. Do not struggle or it will make this worse.”

Before Luke could ask what _ that _ ominous statement meant, Vader slipped an arm around his back and under his knees, hefting him up into his arms as he stood.

Luke yelped, partly in pain, partly in surprise. The change in position sent agony screaming through his leg, and he clenched his teeth together against a shriek.

Once the pain stabilized, Luke found mental space to wonder at the strangeness of being clutched tightly in Darth Vader’s arms.


	10. Day 17. “Stay With Me”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke tries to get his father off the Death Star II.

“Stay with me, Father,” Luke pleaded. “Almost there.”

There was no way Luke would still be upright without the Force augmenting his strength. His father was exactly as heavy as he looked, and with so many of his systems fried by the Emperor’s lightning, he was not much help in supporting his own weight.

Luke was exhausted, his own body sparking with pain with his every movement. He wasn’t sure how long it’d been since he had last slept. Nearly falling unconscious under the assault of Dark Side energy didn’t count, and he hadn’t been able to sleep in the small holding cell at the landing platform on Endor. He was pretty sure he was going to sleep for a week if they made it off the Death Star.

_ Not if, when, _ Luke thought stubbornly. They were getting off this thing.

He tightened his grasp on the wrist of his father’s arm that was slung over his shoulder. The hangar was full of frenzied activity and no one gave them so much as a first glance, let alone a second. Luke worried that someone was going to run into them. He didn’t think he would be able to get his father back up if they fell.

“Almost there,” Luke muttered. His father’s labored breathing was worrying. Luke didn’t know how much of his life support was still functioning. He could only beg the Force that it would be enough until he got him to medical help.

They were close, not more than a few steps away from Vader’s Lambda shuttle, when Luke lost his footing. They tumbled to the ground, and Luke managed to catch himself before he landed on his father. That would be the last thing he needed.

He stumbled to his feet, reaching out to grab his father’s wrists. If he couldn’t carry him the rest of the way, he would drag him. It was only a few more steps, then up the ramp. It wasn’t dignified, but he could leave him sprawled on the floor of the shuttle’s entrance until he got them away from the Death Star.

His father tugged his arm away from Luke’s hand.

“Luke, leave me.” The words were rasping, strained. Talking was more effort than his father could afford right now. Luke shook his head, grabbing his father’s hand despite his protests.

“No, you’re coming with me. Stay with me, Father. We’re almost there. I didn’t carry you this far just to leave you.”

“I am… slowing you down.”

“Nonsense.” It was true, but Luke didn’t care. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“...Foolish.”

Luke managed a smile. “I must have gotten that from somewhere.”

His father was heavier to drag than to carry, somehow, but Luke was able to get him into the shuttle. The Force was pressing on him urgently, warning him, and he knew they were running out of time.

“Stay with me. I’m going to get us out of here.”


	11. Day 19. Asphyxiation (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forth and last part of the series that started with “Dragged Away.”  
Vader rage murders everyone responsible for holding Luke captive in “Isolation” and gains an unexpected tagalong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s some fairly graphic Murder in this one, FYI.
> 
> Also, I posted two chapters today, so make sure you didn’t miss one.

“It is too bad that there was a prison break. Everyone escaped, and there were no Imperial survivors.”

The commander’s face paled at Vader’s threat, and though Vader was not actively paying them any attention, he felt the current of fear pass through the rest of the Imperials in the room. He spared a thought to lock all the doors leading out of the detention wing of the facility.

“My - my Lord, _ please_,” the commander begged.

Vader paused, not because of the coward’s pleading, though he enjoyed the momentary hope on his face in response, but rather because a thought occurred to him.

“Did he beg?” Vader asked.

“What?”

“Luke. Did he beg?”

“I’m… I’m sure he did. They all do.”

“Did you listen to him?”

The fear oozing from the commander spiked into a roiling storm as he grasped where Vader was going with this. Vader smiled grimly, relishing his panic.

“No, please! Lord Vader, would you have us release every Rebel that asks for it?” He was backing up, trying to put space between them, but Vader stalked forward after him until the commander hit the wall.

“Of course not. But if there is an important Rebel who is to be captured alive only, I expect them to be _ kept alive _ until I arrive to claim them. You are lucky he does not appear to have sustained any permanent damage.”

“Lucky?” he whispered, a spark of hope in his eyes. Vader crushed it.

“I would make your death ten times more painful had he died.” Vader reached out and wrapped his hand around the commander’s neck. It wasn’t often he physically strangled someone, but this man… he wanted to _ feel _ his throat collapse beneath his fingers.

His hands grasped at Vader’s, nails pressing into the leather of his gloves and scraping against the unyielding metal underneath. His eyes widened as he slowly suffocated, his body spasming as Vader starved it of oxygen. The Dark Side consumed his fear greedily, and Vader reveled in the rush of power it gave him.

Just as the life was almost drained out of him, Vader clenched his fist tighter, crushing his trachea and snapping his neck. The crunch of bone was satisfying.

Vader released him, watching as the body slumped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, and the Dark Side’s appetite was nowhere near sated. 

He let the darkness in, let it bolster his rage as he drank in the fear permeating the room. Every one of the Imperials in the room had had a hand in mistreating his son. Every one of them was a legitimate target for his bloodlust. Vengeance was in his power to deliver, and he would repay Luke’s suffering.

He turned slowly to face the room. Everyone was watching him cautiously, hopeful that he had taken his displeasure out on their senior officer and would leave the rest of them alone, despite his earlier threat.

They would learn not to underestimate his rage.

~*~

When Vader finally extinguished his bloody blade, he and Luke were the only beings in the room still breathing.

The Dark Side was still singing in his veins. It had been a long time since he had indulged it so thoroughly, and he had forgotten how difficult it was to come down.

Vader looked at Luke, draped across the chair he had set him in, and didn’t dare to touch him. The darkness in his mind was whispering that his son was a weakness, a threat to his position as the Sith apprentice, and he would be better off without him. Vader would never forgive himself if, in a moment of carelessness, he hurt Luke.

_ Like you hurt his mother? _

Vader growled at the unwelcome memory. The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Palpatine, but the whisper had not come through their bond. He shook it away.

Needing a distraction to calm himself before he could trust himself in close proximity to Luke, he focused on the control console.

He downloaded a copy of the security footage from Luke’s cell, then traced his son’s footsteps back to the point where he and his team had been captured. He saved copies of everything involving his son, then scrubbed the data from the last few days. A quick error code, and all the cameras in the detention facility suffered catastrophic failure. It would still be obvious to anyone who examined the scene that it had not, in fact, been a prison break, but Vader was not too concerned about covering his tracks. There was only one person he needed to answer to, and he could only hope the Emperor would find the whole thing amusing, as he often did when Vader let himself fall into a murderous rage. As long as no one the Emperor had his eye on was caught up in the fallout. Vader doubted anyone _ here _ would have that dubious honor.

His eyes drifted to Luke again. He looked so peaceful, oblivious to the carnage around him that had been caused on his behalf. Unable to help himself any longer, he crossed the room to Luke. He reached for him without consciously deciding to, but stopped with his fingers just shy of his hair. He clenched his hand into a fist and pulled it back. There was still a slight current of rage coursing through him, beyond the normal level of background radiation of anger that he lived with.

He spun around and stalked back to the computer. There was one more part of his threat he had yet to carry out. He leaned over the console and keyed in the code to unlock all the cell doors.

Vader felt the confusion of the Rebel prisoners, and a few of them poked their heads out of the cell doors. Their eyes flew wide as they took in the state of the control room.

“You are all free to go. I have what I came for,” Vader said. It didn’t matter to him whether they ran or stayed here to rot. But he _ had _ told the commander that all the Rebels escaped, so he might as well give them the chance.

He went back to making sure the computers were wiped clean of any evidence that Luke was his son and tried his best to ignore the Rebels. None of them would be foolish enough to attack him, and even if they did, the Force would warn him.

“Luke!”

Vader turned at the shout of his son’s name to see Antilles rushing towards Luke. Vader stepped between them, cutting him off. He hadn’t gotten this close just to have another irritating Rebel spirit his son away.

“Let him go!” Antilles snarled. Vader was startled by the utter lack of expressed fear. There was a little bit tainting the Force around the pilot, but it was not for himself and it was eclipsed by his concern for Luke.

“I think not.” He turned his back on Antilles to scoop Luke up in his arms again. His child was still soundly asleep, and would be for hours yet, Vader guessed. It hadn’t taken much to put him under, but the Force compulsion he had laid on him was strong. Vader wanted him fully settled into his quarters before he woke.

Some of Antilles’s fear broke through onto his face when Vader turned around again and he caught sight of Luke limp in his arms.

“What did you do to him?” Antilles reached for Luke, and Vader took a step back, pulling Luke away from him. Antilles frowned.

“_I _ did nothing. And what was done to him shall be rectified.”

Antilles’s eyes wandered around the body-strewn room, his brows furrowing in confusion. His gaze snapped back to Luke cradled in Vader’s arms.

“You did this because of _ Luke_? Because of what they did to him? _ Why_?”

“He is not to be harmed.”

Antilles snorted. “Like you’re not just going to take him back to your ship and torture him yourself for destroying your precious Death Star.”

Vader bristled. “I will not lay a finger on him. And his ability to take that shot should be commended, not condemned. No harm will befall him in my custody.”

“You can say whatever you like, but it’s not like I’ll believe you. You haven’t spent the last few years hunting him down just to keep him locked up on your Star Destroyer like a _ pet_,” Antilles spat.

Vader focused on his son’s negligible weight in his arms to keep from lashing out. He knew that if he harmed his son’s friend, Luke would find out somehow. That was the last thing he needed.

“Believe me or not, it makes no difference. He is mine, and he will be well treated.”

“I want proof.”

“What?” Did the Rebel have no fear? Or was his loyalty to Luke just so strong that it overrode any sense of self-preservation? That kind of loyalty could be useful. An idea started to form in the back of his mind.

“I won’t believe you unless I see it with my own eyes that you mean my commander no harm.”

“Are you offering to come with him?” Vader let a dangerous edge creep into his tone. It might also not be a bad idea to have a familiar face around when Luke woke up, though he felt the stirrings of a long-dead jealousy at the thought.

Yes, he would take Antilles with him too.

Antilles blanched and took a step back. Then his gaze flickered to Luke again. He groaned.

“I am _ so _ going to regret this,” he muttered. “Lead the way.”


	12. Day 20. Trembling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke almost drowns. Vader comforts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an old piece I just finished up for this. And yes, I know Vader could have just used the Force, but we want the Drama™.
> 
> Also, I posted two chapters today, so make sure you didn’t miss one.

It was bad enough being stranded on a desolate planet with no one but his fa – _ Darth Vader _ for company, but did it _ have _ to be an ice planet? Luke’s flight suit, while insulated for the chill of space, was not quite enough to ward off the cold, and he shivered as he kept a stubborn distance between himself and Vader. At least it wasn’t as cold as Hoth, and though it was snowing, it wasn’t a blizzard, and there was no wind.

The snow crunched under his feet as he trudged forward. Though much of the snow was hard packed, there was a thick layer of loose, recently accumulated snow on top that made walking difficult. It was almost impossible to move quickly, and Luke was trying very hard to push away unpleasant memories of struggling to get away from the wampa’s cave on Hoth.

He glanced over at Vader, who was to his left and several feet ahead. _ He _ didn’t seem to be having trouble, but then his legs were quite a bit longer than Luke’s. And even though it would be easier and more efficient, Luke refused to follow behind the Sith in the trail he was forging through the drifts, no matter how many times Vader told him to. It was petty, and he knew it, but he still wasn’t sure how to feel about the recent… _ parental revelation_, and he certainly wasn’t about to let Vader _ help _ him in any way. Following him would imply that Luke had surrendered somehow, and he didn’t want to give that impression. He had only stayed with Vader after the crash because it was more practical, and he didn’t want to spend the whole time he was trying to get off the planet also running from Vader.

Vader stopped and turned around to look at him for what was probably the hundredth time. “You would not fall so far behind if you would – ”

“Not… happening…” Luke panted. He ignored the disapproving tilt to Vader’s helmet and the ache in his own legs that he could somehow feel through the cold numbness.

“You are a foolish child,” Vader said as Luke finally drew even with the waiting Sith Lord.

Luke didn’t stop, even though he would love a chance to catch his breath. He didn’t want to show weakness, and maybe if he just _ kept moving _ he could somehow outdistance Vader, find some sort of civilization or at least somewhere he could hole up safely and fix his busted comlink, anything that didn’t involve freezing to death or being captured by the Empire. But even though he tried to keep his hopes high and ignore the inevitability, he knew, somewhere deep in his bones with a certainty that rang in the Force, that he would be leaving the planet with Vader. It terrified him, even though he was _ pretty _sure that he was not intended for execution.

“I’m not a child.” He could almost _ feel _ Vader’s raised eyebrow at his back.

“Then you are a foolish adult,” Vader said. Luke gritted his teeth. That was _ worse_, and he could hear the note of superiority in Vader’s voice as he said it.

“Fine. I walked into that one. If I admit I’m a foolish child, will you let me go once we reach a town or something?” The planet was technically unsettled, in that it had no real government or infrastructure, but he knew there were a few scattered colonies, and they would probably have equipment he could use to contact someone.

Vader was silent except for his heavy footsteps, which had resumed once he realized that Luke was actually gaining some distance between them. He caught up quickly, and Luke froze when Vader’s large hands settled on his shoulders. His instincts were screaming to duck away, turn, scramble back, anything to break the contact and get the Sith back into his sight and not directly behind him, but he was immobilized somehow, and Vader’s next words didn’t help matters.

“No, my son. You are done running from me. It is time for you to come home.” One of Vader’s thumbs rubbed against his shoulder blade, with just enough pressure for him to feel through the fabric of his flight suit, and he pretended that he couldn’t hear the longing wistfulness in Vader’s voice.

“I don’t have a home anymore,” Luke whispered, blinking away images of the burning farm and his aunt and uncle’s bodies.

“You do,” Vader insisted. “I am your father, and your place is with me.”

“A cell on your Star Destroyer isn’t a _ home_,” Luke snapped, finally shaking Vader’s hands off his shoulders and turning to face him. He glared at the Sith, arms crossed over his chest.

Vader’s hands dropped back down to his sides. “You would not be kept in a _ cell_, my son. I have rooms prepared for you – ”

“Not interested.” He turned again and continued trudging through the snow. He heard Vader begin to follow again after a moment. His father’s presence was tinged with disappointment, and for a moment Luke almost felt bad for shutting his offer down so harshly. But father or no, he was still _ Darth Vader_, still the right hand of the Emperor. He couldn’t just… go with him.

Luke wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, too engrossed in his thoughts, so when the ground suddenly fell away, he lost his footing and tumbled down the slope.

“Luke!” Vader yelled, and Luke heard the panic in his voice.

“I think I’m okay,” he called back, the worry he could feel from his father enough to convince Luke to reassure him. It had been a short drop, the hill steep enough that he rolled all the way to the bottom, but not so much that he simply fell straight down.

He was currently on his back, so he rolled over and started to stand, but the ground beneath him protested, and Luke froze as he realized he was sitting on ice. Ice that groaned with every little movement he made.

“Luke. Do. Not. Move.”

He risked turning his head enough to see Vader standing at the top of the incline. His father’s fear sang clearly in the Force, and Luke tried unsuccessfully to push his own away. There hadn’t been ice like this on Hoth. He didn’t know how to safely get off it, and any rational thoughts he might have had fled in the face of one of his worst fears. He knew how to survive in the scorching heat of twin suns, how to identify changes in air pressure that signified a coming sandstorm, how to tell if sand was stable or if it would shift away under your feet and bury you. He wasn’t afraid of heat or sand or even of the flash of green lasers far too close in the vacuum of space, but water, which should mean life, _ had _ meant life until he left Tatooine and encountered far too much of it in one place, scared him more than he had ever thought possible. Something so necessary to life shouldn’t be able to take it away so easily.

“Help,” he pleaded, his irrational, he knew, panic drowning out any embarrassment he might have felt at begging for help from Vader.

“Luke, lay down,” Vader instructed. “Move slowly, keep your weight distributed over as large an area as you can.”

Luke shifted, and the ice creaked again, louder this time.

“I can’t,” he gasped. The ice was going to break, and he was going to fall through. He could swim, sort of. Han had taught him once, shortly after Yavin, when they’d stopped on a planet with nearby lakes, but he couldn’t swim _ well_, and he knew the cold would paralyze him. He’d get sucked under the ice and drown –

“Yes, you can.” Vader’s commanding voice broke through his panicky thoughts. “You must.”

“The ice is going to break – ”

“I will not let you drown, Luke. Move slowly.”

Agonizingly slowly, Luke rolled back over so he was on his stomach. He paused each time the ice beneath him made a sound, his breath catching, but the ice held despite his fears. He glanced up to see that Vader had made his way down the slope and was now standing at the edge of the frozen lake, several arm’s lengths away.

“Now what?” he asked.

Vader crouched down and held a hand out to Luke. “Spread your arms and legs out to distribute your weight, then crawl towards me. _ Slowly_.”

The ice was slippery, but Luke managed to get enough of a grip between his boots and his gloves to inch closer to shore and his father’s outstretched hand. He didn’t know how long it took, counting time by the ominous snaps and groans from the ice instead of seconds or minutes, but eventually he was able to reach out and grab his father’s hand. Vader pulled him closer until he was able to hook his other arm around Luke’s waist and haul him onto solid ground. Luke scrambled away from the edge, and Vader caught him, clutching Luke to him tightly as they kneeled in the snow.

“You are safe,” he said, and it seemed to be only partially meant for Luke, the rest as reassurance to himself. “You are safe.”

Luke clung to him, working his arms free of Vader’s suffocating embrace so he could wrap them around Vader’s neck. His breath fogged up the shiny plastisteel of his father’s helmet, and he fought to control his ragged gasping. His father’s artificial breathing rumbled through Luke’s body, pressed against Vader as he was, and he focused on the steady rhythm of it, working to match his own to it. It took a few minutes, and Vader’s patience prevented Luke from feeling embarrassed about it. At some point, Luke hadn’t noticed when, Vader had begun gently stroking his back. It was soothing and comforting, and it helped him to finally calm down.

“Thank you,” Luke murmured. He had never thought he’d be thanking _ Vader _ of all people. But clearly there was some part of his father that still cared about him, despite everything he had done to him. It made him feel a little bit better about the fact that he knew he would be leaving the planet with him.

Maybe, just maybe, his father _ did _ want him as a son after all.


End file.
